by Steve Ruskin
“On behalf of ExoRok Astro Mining, Incorporated,” the representative said, impeccable in his dark suit and slicked-back hair, “a wholly owned subsidiary of Aedar ExoSystems, I’d like to thank you for helping prevent this corporate sabotage and recovering our stolen property.”
He pushed yet another tablet across the desk to her. “Press your thumb to complete the transfer, Ms. Ochana.”
“Transfer?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “Your bonus. Standard company protocol. For helping to minimize losses in the face of piracy, sabotage, or other intentional acts against company assets. It’s in your contract.”
Recalling her earlier conversation with Mayve, she wasn’t expecting much. A token amount. In fact, Noemi was rather defensive, half expecting to be blamed for not following some obscure company piracy-prevention protocol.
So when she saw the amount on the tablet, she about fell out of her chair. In fact, there were three different figures, all quite large.
“Are … you sure that’s correct?”
“It is the standard credit bonus for helping the company thwart corporate espionage, coupled with the anti-piracy reward, adjusted for the usual rank-basis point variable. Those are the first two figures on the screen. Usually, that amount is split among a number of employees. In this case, it’s all yours. We’ve never had an employee stop a heist single-handedly before.”
She nodded, unable to comprehend the sum and what it would mean for her. New clothes. No debt. Hell and starlight! She wouldn’t have to work for a year if she didn’t want to. She recalled her discussion with Mayve about company rewards and bonuses, and how they scaled with rank.
“But I’m just a rookie.”
He smiled faintly. “Prince Aedar was impressed by your … presence of mind in handling this situation. He grew up on an outer-zone station, too, you know. Built Aedar ExoSystems up from a tiny transport operation to the system-wide corporate behemoth it is today. ExoRok Astro Mining is the jewel in the corporate crown.”
“Truum Aedar knows about me?” Noemi couldn’t get past that one thought.
The rep nodded. “He read your file with real interest the past few days. He was quite on edge about this platinum shipment. This wasn’t just any ore run, Ms. Ochana. This load of platinum represented a significant portion of ExoRok’s investment over the past five years. Its loss would have been devastating to the company’s bottom line—our shareholders would have eviscerated us at the next annual meeting. Hence the third figure there. Prince Aedar himself authorized it.”
He indicated the last—and largest—figure displayed on the tablet.
“What’s that for? Another bonus?”
“No, Miss Ochana. That’s your new salary.”
That’s when he told her about her promotion.
*
It was easy enough to find the Second Star. As far as bars go, it was the station dive—where the flotsam and jetsam of visiting spacers collected. Tiber Station had a bar just like it. Every outer-zone station probably did. She only had to follow the smell of sweat and narcsmoke.
Near the bottom of the station’s spindle, the Second Star’s inner wall drew heat from the central power core. Its outer wall was a curved window with a celestial view, blocked only by the fins, fuel modules, and other protrusions from the freighters docked in the ring above.
The Second Star’s patrons were the usual collection of blue-collar spacers passing through Cassius—lifters and processors, medics and military, engineers and maintenance techs. No doubt there were some privateers and pirates among them, too, keeping a low profile. They sat alone, or in little groups, around transparent, silicate-topped tables covered with half-full glasses and dishes holding aromatic, smoking narcpipes. They played games, chatted, swore, or just stared out the windows into deep space in silence, sipping their drinks.
Just the sort of place where Noemi felt most at home.
Through the haze of narcsmoke, she saw Lilia and the other nurses. Lilia waved her over.
“Hey, lifter!” she said when Noemi weaved her way over to their table. “Or the ‘Broker’s Savior,’ as they’ve been calling you.”
“They have?”
The three nurses nodded in unison and smiled. Real, sincere smiles.
“Did you have to sell even more of your soul to ExoRok in order to keep it?” Lilia asked.
“Nope,” Noemi replied. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that there’s nothing the devil can give you in exchange for your immortal soul that you can’t get for yourself with a little hard work. Well, maybe a lot of hard work.”
They laughed.
“Sit,” Lilia said, nodding at an empty chair across the table.
Noemi hesitated, then took off the coat Lilia had given her and handed it across the table.
“This coat was Nik’s. You should keep it.”
“But I gave it to you. You need it to work.”
“I can buy my own now. There’s a spacer market three levels above us. I’m good.”
Lilia took the coat back, hugging it to her chest. “Thank you.”
One of the other nurses set down the drink she’d been sipping. “I heard they already got the cargo back. How’d they find Jeral and the platinum so quickly?”
“Idiot that he is, Jeral somehow managed to have an active pinger in the pocket of his zero-atmo suit.” Noemi winked conspiratorially. “Took some searching, but they found it. The OZ Geo ship didn’t get more than a few million klicks into the asteroid field before the sector police caught up with it. I understand Jeral and Mayve will be taken to New Carthage to stand trial.”
“Still can’t get over all those bodies,” one of them said. “Hope Mayve and Jeral get what they deserve.”
“Sit,” Lilia said again, and tapped the surface of the table in front of her, activating a drink menu. She swiped a flashing orange credit icon from her account and flicked it across the table’s flat surface. It spun in animated circles and came to a stop before Noemi, where a display of her own public profile appeared. Her profile flashed, waited for her to accept Lilia’s money by sliding it into the image of her own credit account.
“Five credits? What’s that for?”
“Remember back on the ship, rookie? I said if you made it to Cassius and still had a job, I’d spot you a few credits for a drink.”
Noemi flicked the icon back across the table’s screen with the tip of her healed forefinger.
“Thanks. But this round’s on me. And when we get back on the Devil’s Broker, no more calling me rookie. From now on, it’s lifter, first class.”
She grinned and tapped the menu screen, ordering her friends a round of drinks with credit from her own account.
Thank you for reading A Deal with the Devil’s Broker. If you enjoyed this story please consider posting a review online at Amazon, Goodreads, or your favorite online ebook retailer. Even if short, it really helps.
Steve Ruskin
steveruskin.com